Thinking of model T Ford reminds me of a friend I had in high school, Stanley Roberts. I will call this story:
When 2 fools met.

Stan lived on the road about half way between our house and Grandpa Perry's place. Stan was a year older than I. Stan brother, Jim had a model T ford. He had got this car from a man in Carterville if I remember correctly. This man had used the model T to deliever mail up until 1949.
It was around 1958 and Stan and I had fixed up this model T and had it running. Jim was in Taihiti on a mission for the LDS Church. Jim had bebuilt the engine. Stan took it get it a safety inspection. They said the orginal lights would not pass. We were not aware of the Antique vehicle law that would make it legal. Around Stan's place they had several old vehicles. We pulled the headlights of a 1930ish car and mounted them on the model T. and hooked up a brake light. Now it passed safety inspection. This car was a late twenty model just before the model A came out. It had a open top and front and back seats. Tires were tall and spokes were made out of wood. It had an electric starter but the bendix spring did not like to release so we cranked it.
Starting a model T required a certain procedure. On the steering wheel column were 2 levers, one on one side and the other on the opposite. One was the gas and other advanced or retarded the timing. Coils were involved somewhere in the electrical system and when you turned on the key you could hear them buzzing and you knew you had power for spark. You set the spark to the retard side and gas on a little. Then you took the crank and engaged it so the handle was down for a quick up pull. You made sure your thumb was not over the crank handle so if it kicked back it wouldn't break your arm. With thumb this way it would kick out of your hand and may come around and smack you on the back of the arm. Many an arm has been broken by not having the thumb in the right place. If there were 2 of you to start it, you found out if the driver was your friend or not. If the spark was advanced too far the crank would kick back smartly. In the weather was cool it helped to open the petcock on the bottom of radiator and drain the water into a pan. Water was heated on the kitchen stove until warm. Then poured back into the radiator. The warm water helped engine to start. Another way was to jack up a rear tire and tie a peice of rope to wheel spoke. With the tranny in high gear you could turn the hind wheel causing the engine to turn over at a faster rate. When it started get your hand off the rope quickly so you didn't get wrapped up in it.
On the floor below the steering column were 3 peddles. One was the brake, another reverse and the third was low and high. Had to push one of the peddles to the nuetral position and hold it. Don't remember which peddle it was as I haven't driven a model T since 1958 and that has been a day or two. There was a handbrake with a botton on the top to release it. When the handbrake was on it put transmission in nuetral. The tranny was the first automatic transmission as it had bands not gears. By pushing the high/low peddle down it engaged low as you released hand brake car would go forward. As you picked up spend you took your foot off the peddle and peddle spring would bring it up and into high gear. Was very simple, 2 gears were all you had or needed. In high gear with throttle level clear down and spark full advanced you could do about 45 mph. Which was flying on the slightly warped wood spoked wheels. You learned how to reached under the steering column to grab the throttle with the fingers and spark with the thumb and pull them together and get the most out of her. When stopping, it was necessary to push up the throttle level as well as retard spark. Push down on the brake level to stop. If you wanted to really shut it down in a hurry you pushed on the reverse peddle at the same time as the brake and that would help. Brakes were mechanical and no power assist beyond the leg power you put into it.
Every car has to have a radio to be anything. We salvaged a radio out of an old Buick, I believe and layed in on the front seat between the driver and passenger. An antenna was installed on passenger side of windshield with baling wire and some insulation. Antenna wire went back to the radio on the front seat. Now we had music. The seats were made of leather and were tuck and rolled. The orginal leather was still on them. Stan would drive and we would "drag main" in Provo, Utah. That model T stood out from all of the underslug cars that were popular in the 50s. In fact can remember Kenny Witt had a '55 Chev that was so low it got hung up on the Heber Creeper railroad track at 2nd West on Main street. The guys with him had to get out and push it over the railroad track. We didn't have any problem with that railroad crossing in the model T as there was plenty of clearance. I don't remember ever a time when we asked any girls if they wanted a ride in the "T" that we were turned down. Girls thought it was okay to drag main in the "T". Nobody else had one.
This brings me to title of this story: 2 fools met. One day Stan received a letter from a man in Las Vegas, Nevada. Letter stated that he had heard Stan had a model T and he wanted to buy it. To name his price and let him know when he could pick it up. Stan replied to the letter, the model T was not for sale. A litte while later another letter arrived saying that "everything has a price and to name his price and let know when it could pick it up." Stan replied car not for sale. Was some time later that another letter arrive with a signed blank check and an accompanying letter said to fill in his price and let know when could pick it up. I asked Stan if he thought this guy was for real. I suggest we call the Las Vegas bank the check was and check him out. We went to a phone booth and I called the Vegas bank. I did the talking as Stan was a little shy. Someon answered the phone and I asked them if they would honor a check from this man for $10,000 dollars. The answer was "Yes." I was making $1.00/hour at the time and thought up about as high a number as I could imagine. I asked "Would you honor this man's check for $50,000." The answer came back "I don't know who you are but we will honor this man's check for any amount." I hung up the phone and Stan asked,"What did they say." I told him they would honor the check in his hand for any amount of money. At that time I believe Stan made a foolish decision. If it had been me I would have contacted his brother, Jim, in Taihiti and tell him I had sold his car for X amount. Stan said the car was not for sale and wrote void on the check and sent it back.
I don't not remember the name of Las Vegas man but I will bet that, that was the first time he was not able to buy something he wanted.
A few years ago when the old homestead that Stan had lived in was up for sale so a business building could be built. All of the old junk cars, caterpillars and the stuff Stan's Dad gathered up was being hauled off. Stan's Dad, also named Stan collected everything imaginable. I was working for him one day and we was driving up the road. He slammed on the brakes in his old International pickup, 1948 model I believe. He said, "I just saw a fishing pole laying on the side of the road. Get out and pick it up." I jumped out and ran back to find an old broom hand with the wire unwound and the straw all gone. I brought it up and showed it to Stan Sn and he said, "Throw it in the back and we will use it for something later." That is how much of stuff got to the Roberts property. One day I counted 7 different caterpillars, "Bull dozers" in different state of repair on the place.
The old building that the model T was stored in was still there and the sliding door was closed. I was curious so stopped by the old place. No one was around and I went over to the building and opened the door enough to see inside. Under all the dust and junk that had been piled in there was the model T that we had driven and enjoyed. I do not know what happened to it as a new office building stands where the old shed once was.
Thinking of Stan Sn and his son Jr reminds of the time I helped the dig a basement under Brig Nicols house. I it got a little had to dig and we had to shoot it with a stick of power. But that is another story for another time.